


Unholy Meditation

by squishyturtlefuckfics



Series: Hypnosis/Mind Control [5]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Brainwashing, Conditioning, Corruption, Extremely Dubious Consent, Finger Sucking, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Gay, Hypnosis, Hypnotism, Implied Rat King mind control, M/M, Meditation, Mind Control, Non-Consensual Touching, Splintercest, Splintercest (TMNT), Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 19:06:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17648255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squishyturtlefuckfics/pseuds/squishyturtlefuckfics
Summary: Another request from tumblr.Meditation is an essential skill for a warrior, but neither Leonardo nor his brothers are prepared for Splinter's newest lesson on it. [SPLINTERCEST][DUBCON]





	Unholy Meditation

**Author's Note:**

> Another request from tumblr. A corrupted Splinter hypnotising his sons. Warning - Splintercest ahead.
> 
> If you like this, please feel free to leave a comment! I love hearing from you guys!

Leonardo kneels before his father, spreading his legs on the soft mat beneath him. His brothers follow suit, falling to their knees and taking up position next to him.

Splinter looks over each of them, as if examining a line of produce, and then nods.

"We will be practising meditation today."

There's a collective groan from his siblings, though Splinter silences them with nothing but a glare. Leonardo masks his smirk. Meditation was important. It was a way to train the mind and free the soul. His brothers needed to realise that eventually. It was too valuable to pass up.

Splinter moves away from them for a moment, returning with a set of candles propped up in metal dishes in one hand, a box of matches in another. He lays one down in front of each of them, and then striking a match the rat light them one by one. Four in total.

Splinter turns his attention back to them. "We shall begin. Close your eyes."

There's another round of grumbling from his brothers: muttering about how they had more important things to do, but again Splinter shushes him quickly, and the room falls into relative quiet as Leonardo allows his eyelids to settle.

He's the quickest to get into it. He'd practiced meditation far more diligently than any of his brothers. He knew the tricks to quiet the mind, knew the spaces he could slip away to. It doesn't take long for the world around him to melt away, leaving the gentle hiss of breath one of the only things he’s aware of.

Deeper. Focused. Calm. Relaxed.

A new scent hovers around his nose, and it twitches as he sniffs the air. It smells like cinnamon, though it's mixed with something Leonardo can't place his finger on. Something almost...spicy, but pleasant all the same.

"Do you smell the candles, my sons?" Splinter's voice rings in his ears. It's a very sudden declaration, but the tone is soft enough not to disturb him from his trance. He hears his father take a long breath in through his nose, before exhaling through his mouth. "It is a relaxant. It will aid you in your meditation.”

Leonardo mimics his father’s actions, nostrils flaring as he sucks the scent in, and from the deep breaths around him he can tell his brothers are following his lead. The smell is nice, but it leaves his sinuses tingling.

“Deep breaths,” Splinter continues. “It will not work if you do not take deep breaths through your nose. Breathe deep and relax.”

Leonardo heeds that advice, splitting his focus accordingly. Part of his mind focuses on the trance, on digging deeper into his mind, whilst the other regulates his breathing. Deep breaths in through his nose, and then out through his mouth.

He sinks deeper.

He loses track of his body bit by bit. First it’s his hands and arms, then his feet and legs. A wave of numbness washes over his body, and as he sinks deeper into his meditation it eventually sweeps up his chest and envelops his head. He'd never been past this point. He could never push himself past it. It was like a wall: a barrier he could never overcome no matter how hard he tries.

But then Splinter's voice rings out again.

"You sense it, do you not?" Again it's so soft. Almost dreamlike. "You can no longer feel your body. It is as if you are lost in space."

That was exactly what it felt like.

"But you must dive deeper." Splinter says. "That is not the end. You must push past your boundaries. Deepen your focus.”

Mentally, Leonardo finds himself frowning. But how? How could he do that?

He wants to speak out to his father, to tell him that it's impossible. How many times had he tried? How long had he spent toiling over that goal? How would his brothers, who didn’t even care about meditation, ever manage that?

But he can’t, not without breaking his focus. The collective breathing shifts around him. Distracted. His brothers are thinking the same as him

"Focus your minds," Splinter says again, as if in answer to their silent questions. “You must concentrate. Focus. Take deep breaths and allow yourself to sink deeper.”

The scent of the candle creeps back up on him. Splinter said it would help them. Was this the key? Was this what they needed to do?

Focus. Concentrate. Leo tightens his resolve. Let everything else vanish, and...

"Breathe deep."

It's automatic. Leonardo inhales through his nose. The scent of the candle seems stronger, burning through his body.

Focus. Focus.

"Breathe,” Splinter repeats, the words almost like a chant at this point. “Inhale the scent, and sink deeper."

His mind swims. Colours erupt and twist in his vision, spiralling around his vision. He stills his heart. He can’t lose focus. Not here.

Breathe.

Smell.

 _Deeper._  

The wall crumbles, and he soars down through the opening.

He’s weightless, both in body and spirit. His mind is numb. It's as if all his thoughts are draining out and no more can get in. Like a block on his brain, and only the thoughts he needs remain. Breathe. Smell. Deeper.

Splinter's voice rings around his head again, as crisp and soft as ever.

"Excellent." Though unable to feel his real body, his meditative state simulates touch. Splinter's gentle hands rubbing at his scalp stroking over his cheeks. It’s delicate, but far too intimate to be fatherly.

The phantom touch lingers. Splinter's hand grazes down his face. "Nice and deep for me, Leonardo. That is it. Perfect."

He should be wary of this. He should be alarmed, but his mind is closed to even himself. Only Splinter's voice remains. Only his gentle tone, his gentle touch, and his earlier commands swirl around his consciousness. Those three words.

_Breathe._

_Smell._

_Deeper._

Slender fingers rub at his lips. His ‘body’ shudders at the touch, his skin crawling all over. One finger pushes through, digging into his mouth. It tastes clean, like the fresh scent of soap, and Leonardo does nothing to stop the intrusion.

He can’t.

"You are so deep, my sons," Splinter continues, seemingly addressing all of them. He strokes Leo's tongue, playing with it as if it were a toy. His instincts are screaming for him to yank himself away, but his mind is locked down tight. "You must feel so lost, yes? Floating and at ease. Distant from even your own minds."

Leonardo does. He can barely even feel himself. His identity is shimmering, threatening to shatter. His thoughts are no longer his own, and whatever threads he had are slowly disintegrating into the void.

"That is just as it should be. You need not think. I will do the thinking for you."

Splinter cups his cheek with his other hand, and his thumb runs over Leo's snout. "Such good, obedient sons you are. Such quiet, delicate boys."

_Breathe._

_Smell._

_Deeper_

The phantom touch grows stronger. It feels real.

The smell of cinnamon burns his nose.

"That is it. Breathe, my sons. Take in the scent. Allow it to dull your minds." Leonardo's consciousness quakes, and he's falling again. Losing sight of himself. Losing sight of control.

But one sliver clings on.

**H-He had to fight it!**

"Deeper still, my sons." Splinter husks, pushing his fingers deeper into Leonardo's mouth. Three digits rest against his tongue, and Leonardo laps at them gingerly. It’s like he’s testing the waters. "Deeper. Such obedient boys. Such obedient servants."

He doesn’t understand what this was, or what this meant, but he knows it was wrong. Deep down he knows.

**F-Fight… Fight it!**

_Breathe._

**F-Fight… Fight.**..

_Smell._

**F-Fight...?**

_Deeper_

**_Fi—- D-Deeper…?_ **

“Good boys… Such good, obedient boys.”

 **Good…** **_Good boy..._ **

Obedient... It’s so clear to him. Leonardo was obedient. Leonardo would obey.

_Leonardo would serve._

The world spins around him. Something in his mind shatters like glass, something that was once important, something that he once revered and needed, and it crumbles to dust as he plummets into the depths. Leonardo screams as he falls, but soon his voice vanishes. His voice was meaningless. It held no power anymore.

"Awaken, my sons."

Light.

His eyes are stiff. They don't want to open. Leonardo wanted to go back. Back to that safety inside of him. Back to that weightless void.

But to his delight, he's still there.

Splinter is here. His brothers are here. He's back in reality, back in the physical plane, back home, but his mind is still so quiet. Still so numb.

The candles have all burnt out. Leonardo looks over to his left. Splinter stands before Donatello, hands pressed to his face, fingers crawling over his skin, touching and petting. Donatello looks up at him contently, mouth hanging open, not moving. Not speaking.

Splinter approaches him once he notices his gaze, and Leonardo follows him with a glazed expression.

"Leonardo..." he purrs, offering his hand, to which Leonardo rises from the floor to meet.

Not with his own hand, but with his cheek.

It feels nice. Warm. Splinter strokes his face in reward, cupping that hand around his cheek. His eyes bore into Leo's own, imprinting his power into him. They glow a bright red, and for just a second they're not his own. They're someone else’s. Red. Evil. Someone else's influence. It’s on the tip of his tongue.

But Leonardo doesn't care.

"Good boy..." The touch from before returns. Splinter rubs over his nose, planting delicate touches to the curve of his snout. Another hand caresses his face, gentle and warm, and now he’s being held between them. Splinter smiles as he pushes his thumb into Leonardo's mouth, and it widens when Leonardo flicks his tongue over it.

"Good boy," Splinter repeats. Leonardo's chest flutters and hums.

He was a good boy.

He laps at his father's thumb for a few more moments before Splinter withdraws it from his mouth, smearing his warm saliva over his lips. When the rat tries to pull his hand away, Leonardo follows it with his snout, nosing the palm and grazing his cheek into it. Something bubbles and burns in his stomach, and now he's lapping at the skin, kissing and licking his fingers.

Need. He needed Splinter's touch.

But Splinter manages to evade his affections, pulling his hands away long enough to discard his robe. His erection springs free, no underwear present to hold it in.

Leonardo gazes at it, nose twitching at the smell of arousal, before looking to his father for guidance. Splinter would think for him. He would obey his father.

He was a good boy.

As if in reward, the gentle touch returns. Splinter holds his face between his hands, this time rubbing circles beneath his eyes.

"Good boys will obey," he murmurs, eyes hooded. "You will obey me, Leonardo. You will pleasure me. You and your brothers will serve me."

He... He will obey.

Leonardo licks his lips and takes his father's cock into his mouth.

It's salty. Warm. Delicious. Leonardo loves the taste.

He wants more.

Splinter pulls him in closer, allowing him that luxury. It tastes wonderful, and though inexperienced Leonardo serves it. Licking. Sucking. Pleasing his father.

_He was a good boy._

Another cheek meets his own. Raphael nestles up beside him, and then Michelangelo to his left. Splinter pulls out of his mouth, but Leonardo doesn't retreat. He prods his father's cock with his nose, drags his tongue up the length of it, and whines as his own erection pokes through his slit. His brothers' snouts meet his own, and soon they're fighting for space, warring for Splinter's affection. Wrestling for their father’s body.

It turns desperate as Donatello joins in, their bodies all packed in together before the rat. Wriggling and writhing and struggling to get room, all of them wanting nothing more than to pleasure their father. To obey him.

They were good boys.

  



End file.
